


Does This Please You?

by Noble_Savage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Cheating, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Infidelity, Slight spoilers, Spoilers, just in case, maybe?? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 13:25:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noble_Savage/pseuds/Noble_Savage
Summary: This story was written after my first playthrough of Awakening, where I fell hard for the brooding Howe boy.Occasionally Nathaniel will say "does this please you?" when he opens a locked chest for you, which got my warden all hot and bothered.Also: I was planning to write smut for this, but as I wrote it, wasn't sure if I should include it. So, if you like the story, and would like to read the *alternate* smutty ending, let me know, and I can post that in a second chapter.





	Does This Please You?

It was... an infatuation, she had with him. Too much time spent away from Alistair mixed with too much built up tension had equated in... 

When she had first met him, glaring at her from the floor of the dungeon cell, learning of his crimes, she could only stare at his face. She didn’t take a thing in, really, as she stayed locked in a contest, his gaze bore into hers. All she knew is that she could understand. He was wrong in his assumptions of his father, but he needed to avenge his family (and their name). And wouldn’t she do the same? Seek revenge on anyone who would try to harm those she loved, even without knowing their cause, even knowing it could very well end in her own death? So she had let him go. Let him take his belongings and walk away; a part of her hoping he would make a new name for himself and his family, a part of her lamenting not being able to know him more. Not that she would admit such, not even now. So when he returned to Vigil’s Keep, dressed up and pleading her to allow him a place with the wardens, well… how could she deny him? She had been thinking that more often, as of late, how she couldn’t deny him. It made her stomach twist when she did, and nausea rocked through her when Alistair’s sweet smile would flash in front of her eyes. It wasn’t planned. Of course it wasn’t. When he had entered her life again, he had remained distant, at first. Most of his talking came in short retorts to Anders’ continued prodding and joking as they travelled through Amaranthine. But time went on. She had found the Howe bow, had returned to him a letter from Delilah, then soon after returned him to Delilah herself. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before; it wasn’t anything she hadn’t done with any of her other companions. It was innocent. 

It had started innocently.

With the gifts came more conversation: at first, it was quips. Nathaniel and the Warden-Commander joining in on a joke, or snarkily replying to a particularly annoying comment (usually from Anders… Almost always from Anders). But when they returned to the Keep for some much-needed rest, sometimes, Nathaniel and the Hero of Frelenden would talk. A comment about the portrait of his mother that still hung in the halls. An apology for his misinformation and misplaced hatred. A story of the circle, when she had first encountered Anders, or the stupid crush on Cullen that she still wasn’t quite over. And it was nice. She had felt an overwhelming numbness after her heroic victory as those she grew so close to slowly seeped back out of her life. They had duties of their own, she understood, but how could she not feel lonely as her closest friends faded into memories she could only hope to hear from again. Being a Grey Warden took her and Alistair many places: places far away from the other, where correspondence was thin, if possible at all, so to have a semblance of what used to be, even with an (almost completely) new set of faces, was comforting. Anders was comforting, in his nonchalance and promiscuity. Justice was comforting in his new found joy in the world he was thrust into. Oghren was comforting, in being the only friend that remained by her side, the only consistency she had obtained throughout the entire adventure. Nathaniel... was comforting.

It had started sarcastically.

Nathaniel was a skilled rogue, handy in opening any lock that he encountered. The first time she had asked him to open a chest in Vigil’s Keep for her was when he still wasn’t keen on his new commander. Reluctantly, he did as he was asked, not without letting out a sardonic “does this please you?” over his shoulder as he did so. Even with the tone of his voice, her heart paused in its beating. She shook it off quickly, retrieving the items from the chest, eyes following her movement. At first, she suspected it was just an idle stare: a gaze resting on her as the other party members awaited their next command, but when she straightened herself and turned towards them, grey eyes caught amber ones, and again she was trapped in an intense staring competition with the Howe. She did her best to shake it off, dismissing it as the same energy he carried in his prison cell, but that excuse didn’t last. His tone changed with time. There was still a playfulness when he next uttered the phrase, but the malice had disappeared. Now a small smile tugged at his lips as he asked the question. He was doing it on purpose. Watching for her reaction. Taking in what the question did to her. Incipiently the Warden would tense once the question was asked, and even as she realised he was simply being a shit, a small wave would rush over her and leave her a little dizzy when his voice rushed to her. She tried not to give him too much. Occasionally a roll of the eyes, or a shake of the head. When she felt playful she would chuckle softly, tell him to quiet himself. It was innocent. One poking fun at the other, nothing more. 

She would have liked to play that it was innocent at least.

She knew better. They all knew better.

Now she stood in a stray study in the Keep. They had recently returned from the city and the Warden-Commander planned to research what to do about the nobles’ plot against her. As she looked over the marked location the Dark Wolf was pointing her towards, she heard the door of the study open. Her eyes dashed upwards at the noise, her head following suit as she recognized Nathaniel, closing the door behind him. 

“I hope I didn’t disturb anything important,” he said as he made his way towards her desk.

“Simply a ploy to end my life. Nothing important at all,” she sighed, a wisp of a smile gracing her features. “To what do I owe the intrusion, Ser Howe?” He was watching her carefully, coming closer as he did so. His face looked… stern? She frowned and stood slowly, cocking her head slightly, “Nathaniel?” He stopped only a few inches away and the Warden-Commander’s back straightened, watching her companion as her frown only set deeper into her brow. He still said nothing as his hand slowly trailed up the smaller’s arms. Her frown slowly gave way as she simply watched his face. She steeled herself, for it was certain she would shake if she didn’t. His fingertips ghosted up her neck before his hand softly cupped her cheek. She took a steadying breath and, just as she went to protest, his lips were on hers. The breath she had drawn came out shakily, her eyes closing and her hands quickly slid on to his chest. As Nathaniel’s hand slowly shifted from her cheek to intertwining in her hair, the other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her tight against him. For a moment it was just a soft press, then a slight retreat. Another quiet breath was taken before Nathaniel pulled her back to him, kissing her more intimately. 

Her stomach and heart clenched themselves as she kissed him back, Alistair’s lips and soft eyes running over in her mind. Maker, how could she be doing this to him? She loved him. She planned to return to him after this quest was over, was yearning to be held and kissed and fucked by the could-have-been king. The man she was too selfish to give up to the throne. The man she was too in love with to let either of them die against the Archdemon. Her nails dug into the rogue’s chest as she took her third shaking breath, a slight sob breaking past her lips as the blond’s voice glided through her mind: ‘Maker’s breath, but you are beautiful.’ Maker, Alistair, if you saw what she had become, you would think her worse than a demon. Thoughts rushed through her mind so loudly she hadn’t registered Nathaniel had parted again. He was still close, but he was mumbling softly, his thumb stroking over the mage’s cheek. She slowly opened her eyes, the world around her blurry. 

“Calm. I’m here for as long as you wish me to be. Give me the command and I return to my room. I never came here, if that’s what you please.”

“Nathaniel…” her voice was weak. Pitiful. She was unworthy of either of these men. Her selfishness was going to be the undoing of them both. She would scar Alistair and he would leave her to rot on her own, from the inside out. And Nathaniel? He will realise how vile she was and throw her into the muck with the rest of the bile that resided in the Keep. Her eyes flushed their fluid onto her cheeks as rough hands tended to her tears. She wasn’t allowed to cry. She did this to herself. To them. She didn’t deserve to cry. “Maker… Alistair…” she winced at the shattered crack of her own voice “Nathaniel… I-”

He kissed her again briefly before his lips trailed over her stained cheeks, “Tell me to go. This night never happened and Alistair need never know.” He whispered this to her, and the intimacy of it had a shiver running up her spine, “I understand if this isn’t something you can do. I was just hoping… I just wanted one night.”

He went to part but found knuckles digging into his chest, white as they held him close by the nightshirt he wore. They stayed there in silence for a time, his commander’s head faced towards the floor, his hands resting on the small of her back. She slowly released the fabric, flattening palms against his chest to smooth the ruffled material. Her face slowly lifted, eyes closed, seeming to focus on keeping her breaths even. Howe only allowed himself to watch her. Anything done would be of her own will. Slowly her eyelashes fluttered and amber irises fixed themselves on his own. There was a moment: a second where she considered kissing him again, and curse the Maker because his heart skipped a beat. His commander shut her eyes again, breath shaking, before slowly leaning up and kissing the corner of Nathaniel's lips before slowly parting, the only contact she kept was to hold his hands, squeezing once before walking away. There would be no closure, and he could only wonder... Does this really please you?


End file.
